High as a Kite
by Archaeologist
Summary: Merlin really shouldn't be making up potions when he doesn't read the instructions properly or how Merlin got high without meaning to.


**Rating:** PG-13  
 **Pairing/s:** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Okay, so the potion wasn't that bad. Merlin had been a bit clumsy of late and Arthur kept making snide comments about it. Usually the prat's noise just rolled off Merlin's back. He could ignore it and give Arthur an idiotic smile in return – that was always good for a giggle later, especially when the git didn't know what to make of it. But this time, well, Merlin was feeling a little down. And he took it all to heart.

The potion, thick as sludge and twice as disgusting, was supposed to make him less clumsy, make him lighter on his feet. At least that's what the book said.

It didn't mention that Merlin would be flying, high as a kite, over the treetops, over the castle, right past Arthur's bedroom. As he peered in, curious at the way the lights were winking at him and things kept changing colours and patterns as he breathed – little sparkles twisting around and they were so pretty that he just wanted to chase them and hold them in his hands to see if they tickled, he noticed Arthur was there, half-naked as usual, twisting some kind of cloth in his hands although it looked like one of Merlin's neckerchiefs but that couldn't be right, and Arthur frowning as he looked down at it.

And Merlin wanted to turn that frown upside-down. Which is why he tumbled in past the window and landed at Arthur's feet and giggled.

Arthur shoved whatever he was holding in his hands behind him, then scowled down at Merlin. "How did you get in here? What is wrong with you? Are you… have you been in the tavern again?"

All the while, the pretty lights were laughing too, great gales of them shining above Arthur's head like a giddy halo of joy. Made him look god-like although Merlin would never tell him that. Although he was kind of god-like when he wasn't being such a prat, all pretty and glowy.

"So you think I'm pretty, now? And god-like. Really, Merlin, what have you been drinking?"

Oops, maybe he'd said a little too much but it felt so good when Arthur dragged him up, his warm warm hand holding Merlin's arm. Arthur's hand was gold and he didn't know how he did that, but Merlin wanted the gold to touch him and make him gold, too. A whole chorus of golden touches and that would make everything so warm, hot, exciting. Like in his dreams.

"You dream about me?"

Every night and most of them ended up with sticky mornings and moaning. But Arthur didn't need to know that. He already had a fat head to go with his gigantic ego.

"I do not have a gigantic ego. I am calling for Gaius since you are obviously not yourself."

Merlin was feeling light again, and if he stood on his tippy-toes, he'd fly away. And that sounded like a great idea. He could fly away and not worry about chopped heads and pyres, but then Arthur might be in trouble and Merlin couldn't let the dollopy dollophead fend for himself. The pretty lights wouldn't let him. And that warm, warm hand holding him close.

So instead of flying, Merlin leaned. On Arthur. Smiled at him, watched the colours of Arthur's face go from pretty to blotchy red and back again. Like the lights, dancing across Arthur's cheeks. Pretty.

And Arthur's breathing got breathy, tickling Merlin's ear as Merlin buried his nose in Arthur's warm warm neck. Merlin wanted to reassure him that it was all right, they were all right, so he petted Arthur's nice chest, the naked one, and then he was playing with the hair there, golden downy hair, and one of the nipples on Arthur's chest, although Merlin didn't know why it was called a nipple and it was kind of a silly word, but it was turning hard and peaky as Merlin's hand played hide-and-seek with it. And Merlin wondered if the other nipple would turn just as peaky so he tried to turn but Arthur stopped him.

"Merlin, much as I'd like this, did you take something? Or did someone give you something? Merlin?"

Merlin just shook his head, resting his cheek on Arthur's warm warm chest, but he was feeling weighty now, less floaty and more like he'd sink into the floor if he wasn't careful.

But Arthur to the rescue because Merlin was rising in Arthur's arms and then in Arthur's bed. The pillows were so soft and Arthur was warm and Merlin thought maybe he could stay there forever. Floating and cosy and loved.

When he woke up, he wasn't floating. His head felt like it was the size of Camelot's tower, his brain rattling around inside, useless as lead.

He felt painfully, ridiculously embarrassed. There was no mercy in the morning. He remembered everything.

At least Arthur hadn't throw him in the dungeon.

In fact, he'd left Merlin in Arthur's bed. With the fantastic pillows and soft sheets. It was almost worth it.

Of course, Arthur was there, staring at him. "You had quite a night of it."

"What?"

"Really, Merlin, you should know which mushrooms to eat by now."

"What?"

"Gaius said that you were off your head because of them."

"Oh, yeah, mushrooms. I thought…."

"Merlin, you should be more careful. You may be the worst servant in the Five Kingdoms but you are…."

"What?" Merlin would love to hear something nice for a change. He couldn't hope for a chorus of birds singing their hearts out as Arthur declared his love, but a compliment would be great.

"An idiot." Arthur gave him a smirky smirk and rolled his eyes, so much so that Merlin thought they might fall out from the strain. "Next time, try and…."

Merlin didn't want to hear the rest. Jumping out of bed, no matter how dizzy and light-headed he felt, he cut Arthur off before he could say anything else that might bring Merlin later to tears. "No problem, sire. I'll just get started on my chores. In fact, let me clean up a bit now."

And before Arthur could object, Merlin was throwing laundry into the basket – Arthur could put his own clothes away but he just dropped things all helter-skelter and it was ridiculous really. But when Merlin found his own neckerchief, the one that had gone missing a week ago, tucked as it was under Arthur's pillow, he stopped short. "I've been looking for this. Did I drop it here?"

Arthur's face was as blotchy as Merlin remembered. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

That stopped Merlin short. Arthur was sounding remarkably guilty for something so innocent. "Did you take it?"

"Everything in this kingdom is mine. What I do with a ratty piece of cloth isn't for you to criticise." Even more guilt in that voice and he wasn't denying it either.

"You did something with my neckerchief?"

"Of course not. What a ridiculous thing to say."

But that just made Merlin more suspicious. He'd remembered how Arthur had reacted when Merlin played with Arthur's chest and that wasn't the actions of a king to his servant. So Merlin put his nose up to his neckerchief and breathed in something unexpected. The scent of sex and Arthur's sweat and longing.

Arthur turned an embarrassed shade of red. But Merlin didn't care. Perhaps something good could come out of his potion after all.

Taking a chance, Merlin stalked over to Arthur, shoved the neckerchief into Arthur's hands, and reaching up, gave him a not-the-best-ever-because-there-was-not-enough-tongue kiss but one from his heart. And after a startled moment, Arthur kissed him back.

And that's how a potion to make him less clumsy turned out to be the best potion ever.


End file.
